


The Emboweler

by ChainSmokesPens



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cabins, F/M, Flash Fic, Horror, Nudity, Slasher, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28869294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChainSmokesPens/pseuds/ChainSmokesPens
Summary: Prompt: [WP] Five teens are running from the Emboweler. The monster that embowels you.





	The Emboweler

“Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!” the crowd demanded, and so Mikey Moore complied. The keg was hard to lift, but mercifully wasn’t full. And as he lifted it over his head, he doused himself in about five times more than he drank. The bearskin rug was saturated, as were some of the chanters.  
“Shit, Mikey!” Brad Chadson scoffed, his cheering turning into scorn once the beer splashed on his sports jacket. “I just got this—”  
“There, there,” Vicky Vicksen said, gently rubbing his chest to soothe the beast, her breasts conspicuously pressing into her boyfriend’s arm. “It was an accident.”  
“But, Babe—”  
Vicky shushed him with a finger and leaned in shove her tongue down his throat.  
“Friends,” Neville Newton called, panicking as he flipped through the diaries he’d found in the cabin. “I do not think we should be here.”  
Marley Mosby took a bubbly hit from her bong before responding. “Why not, Nevi?”  
Neville began to respond, but Vicky and Brad fell directly onto his shoulder, continuing to make out. “For the sake of Pete, can you degenerates not find somewhere else to fornicate?”  
Vicky pulled away from her boyfriend’s mouth for a moment and redirected her attention to Neville. She pursed her lips and pressed her shoulders in, forcing her breasts further up her top. “Good idea, Nevi!” She leaned in and dragged the flat of her tongue up his boney cheek.  
Brad was incensed immediately. “What the fuck was that about?”  
She hopped off the floor and skipped toward the staircase. “I like it when you’re angry,” she said with a giggle, dashing up the stairs.  
Brad followed, but not before punching Neville hard in the shoulder.  
Taking a moment to rub his pained arm, he refocused his attention to the clown and the stoner. “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, we should leave the premises as quickly as possible.”  
“Oh yeah? Why would we N-bomb?” Mikey asked, leaning on the keg and tipping it onto the floor.  
“Because these woods are cursed!”  
The screams and creaking from the floor above drove the three into a huddle. But, when the screams were followed by subsequent moans and dramatized gasps, they realized it was nothing to worry about. Still, Marley and Mikey leaned in as Neville began to explain.  
“The native tribes in this area believed in a creature called the Emboweler.”  
The moans upstairs got even louder, mostly masculine this time.  
“Oh shit,” Marley said, taking another hit of her bong.  
Mikey, more intrigued than scared, and a little drunk, asked, “What’s the Disemboweler?”  
“Emboweler,” Neville corrected. “It is apparently the amalgam of native people’s who died in the battlefield and whose bodies were never laid to rest properly.”  
The moans above got louder, eventually turning to screams.  
Neville raised his voice over the sound of things smashing and the boards creaking. “It walks the woods in the form of a mass of flesh and attacks anyone it comes across. It’s especially drawn to sauces of light because it knows that’s where people are.”  
As Mikey and Marley listened intently, the pattering on the floor above became more frenzied. There was the sound of a door slamming and footsteps moving toward the staircase.  
Vicky sprinted down the stairs and into the living room in nothing but her panties. “Guys help! Someone’s attacking Brad!”  
“The Disemboweler!” Mikey and Marley said in excitement.  
“The Emboweler,” Neville corrected.  
Vicky was already back at the stairs. “Hurry the fuck up and help!” The group followed.  
They kicked the door open and saw the room. The oil lamp and flower vase has shattered on the floor, along with both the window and its frame. The sheets, the carpet, the curtains, and the bed were all ragged with the tears of claw marks. Blood, feces, and bits of viscera were smeared along the floor, walls, and ceiling, most chucks of flesh located around the newly broken window.  
Vicky dropped to her knees when her mind allowed her to process what she saw on the bed. “Brad, no.”  
Brad was in his underwear, splayed out on the bed, completely covered with blood, most of it not his own. His arms were broken, the bone structure of one had was fully visible. A kneecap shot out of one leg while a shinbone jutted out of the other. His underwear was on, though the white cotton was heavily saturated with blood. His eyes were wide, bulging from their sockets, staring in two different directions. And out of his mouth that was open in shock, it was clear that his tongue was gone.  
The most disturbing part was his abdomen. It was distended, swollen beyond standard human capability, with what appeared to be some form of intestines stitching it up the middle. His ribs had been removed, likely to make insertion easier. The new organs, human and otherwise, sat beneath his thinly-stretched skin like children concealing themselves poorly beneath a blanket, lumpy and misshapen.  
Neville vomited from the horror. Mikey vomited because he was drunk.  
“Wow,” Marley said, dropping to the floor and wrapping an arm around Vicky. “I didn’t even know dudes could get pregnant.” She looked into her friend’s disbelieving, traumatized eyes. “Congratulations, bud.”


End file.
